His teeth gently began a new pleasure and his tongue ensured that it continue, his lips soon evoking a need so compelling that her body moved against him in a slow and ancient rhythm.
Leo didn't delay another second; he stripped the cotton top from her shoulders and tossed it away on the floor, and his bottoms went right after it. In the small cast of light from her reading lamp she retreated onto the bed, to the middle of it, and he came right behind her to catch her up in his eager embrace.
"Arianne, from the first night I stayed here I went to bed with thoughts of you—"
"But I had no idea."
"And I went to sleep still thinking of you—"
"Oh..."
"And then I dreamed of you—"
She laughed softly.
"And I had daydreams of you at work—"
"Me, too..."
Leo's warm lips found hers again and his solid weight pressed her into the mattress, the hard length of his sinewy male body a driving force bringing on a delirious craving for all of him. But he only held her, teasing her longing with a hundred kisses and the palpable pleasure of just simply holding. She brushed her hands through his hair, touched his cheek and ran her fingertips along his chin, and kissed him a hundred times in return.
She kissed him until her breath came only in shallow pants, and further contact of his taut body with her avid curves was impossible without a complete and fervid union....
***
It was dark outside, that insubstantial darkness just before dawn. She was comfortable and warm and surrounded by her lover's embrace. Even in his sleep Leo held her. And then she realized he was awake, too.
His face buried in the black cloud of tousled curls, he nuzzled the side of her neck ever so softly, kissing and nibbling and tasting her white skin, intoxicated by her individual flavor. He murmured, softer even than a whisper against the shell of her ear, "My beautiful Arianne. I love you. I think I love you more every day…"
She moved her head on the pillow to look at him with drowsy, smoky black eyes from under a low fringe of lashes, and murmured back, her voice a sleepy endearment, "Oh, Leo, I can't charge you room and board anymore!"
"No," he said, laughing quietly. "And neither can you pawn me off as a paying guest!" Under the covers his fingers began a slow random journey over her contented feline curves.
In a warm haze she gradually turned toward him, stretching like a cat underneath his languorous, persuasive caresses that searched out the most erotic places, to linger there and, in delicious sleepy slow motion, render her shamelessly wanton. And then his possessive touch slid down the soft warmth of her inner thigh, drawing it against him—
***
When, some time later, they lay quietly in happy satiety, entangled in each other, Arianne's mind wandered in a semidoze, and all of a sudden she remembered the ESP dossier just across the landing, hidden in his bedroom. He kept secrets, too.
She determined then not to let on that she knew anything about either the file or his curious business card with the thumbprint on the back. She would wait, simply wait him out to see what happened. She didn't want to force any issues; the magnitude of being in love was enough for her for now. Let the future take care of the future. Nothing had really been resolved last night by their argument, except that they loved each other.
But wasn't that an earth-shattering realization all on its own! She smiled and snuggled yet a little closer to him, and his responsive embrace savored their sweet harmony. He liked to cuddle, she discovered, to her utter delight.
He loved her... so she imagined what had happened was that he had changed his mind, not merely overcome his principles. In any case, she wasn't going to pressure him into giving one iota more than what he was willing to give. She didn't want him feeling burdensomely responsible just because they were lovers.
And he would realize that, because she would ask no questions. Whatever he cared to divulge was fine. She had to maintain such a hands-off attitude, because, as she well knew, he could be gone with the light of day... any day. He could yet spell disaster.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was only later in the day, when she had time for her own thoughts again, .that Arianne remembered she had a mystery to solve. There really was a mystery, wasn't there? Or had she lived by herself for so long she was imagining intrigues under every rock?
No, she hadn't imagined that damned file, and neither had she made up Larry's nagging for passwords. In a lull between customers at the shop, it suddenly occurred to Arianne that perhaps she was already up to her neck in another case like the kidnapping one and she just didn't know it. As had happened before, was she a pawn in someone else's game? What kind of rings was Larry seeking his passwords for? Damnation upon damnation! She was too trusting, much too gullible; she never should have started answering his many questions... and she never should have replied to Leo's few, either.
If only she could have kept her ESP a secret. But first Jill had given her away to Larry, and her own close association with Leo had given her away to him.
Thoughts of home and Leo and the night ahead made her smile. How gladly he made her blood rush through her veins; how he filled her with joy! Like magic he made her life doubly worth living. She was bubbling over with eager happiness to see him again, and couldn't wait to tell him so. How wonderful it would be not having to pretend anymore... how wonderful to run to him and hug him and kiss him like mad just because she felt like it, which she very often did—
However, all these exquisite conjectures didn't help turn up any clues. Her smile disappeared. If only she had a friend in whom she could really, truly one hundred percent trust. Well, there was Jill.... Arianne chewed contemplatively on her lip, while with another part of her brain she automatically bagged enormous quantities of Christmas confections in preparation for when the shop would be crowded with customers.
But hadn't Jill spilled one secret too many already, and to a practical stranger, too? Arianne puzzled over this small but irksome fact again. Why would she have done that, when she'd never been that negligent before? Perhaps it had been by accident, after all. Something could always slip out by accident.
And pressure from her ex-husband, no doubt, was what had made her so depressed of late. Every time she saw Jill—it seemed the only time Arianne saw her was when Larry had arranged for her to baby-sit—she was down in the dumps and all she could talk about was how rotten her ex-husband was... or how marvelous Larry was.
Then, remembering some of their more recent conversations, Arianne thought it was curious how Jill stridently insisted she hadn't seen this "scum of the earth" since their divorce and yet she had also said that the same man was the "father of my children." Jill's divorce had been about the same time as her own. In that case, Jill shouldn't have seen him for more than two years. Yet Lucy was barely a year old. And there was his new get-rich-quick scheme that she knew about. The thin cover story of mutual friends letting her in on it rang false. Yet Jill would not confide in Orly; she hadn't made up her mind what course to take concerning her ex-husband's dangerous crooked dealings.
Arianne wondered again whether Don was Jill's ex. He seemed like such a nice fellow, though....
Whoever her ex was, Arianne surmised he lived nearby and was probably a frequent visitor for Jill's fear and dread to be so gripping. Anxiously Arianne puzzled over Jill's state of mind all day at the shop, when she wasn't thinking about Leo.
When she arrived home and started to prepare supper, the problem of Jill's behavior was still rolling around in the back of her mind. Since she was expecting no one and Leo wasn't due home for a couple more hours, on a whimsy she withdrew her crystal ball from its deep drawer and unfolded its black velvet wrapping. She placed it on its stand by the window, and as she looked out through the lashings of rain and the pitiless black of a moonless, starless night toward the lights of her neighbor's house, a scene from several weeks earlier paraded through her mind in startling clarity.
She ha
d been opening her back door for Larry as he came running up the stairs. Looking up from his smiling face, she had noticed Jill on her back porch, watching them. She had lifted her hand and Jill had waved back. Then her neighbor had turned away and the door behind her banged shut—such a lonely sound. Meanwhile Larry was overflowing with chatter and cheer....
With a sickening lurch of her insides Arianne realized what suddenly made perfect sense. Larry Barnes was Jill's ex-husband.
But how disgusting, if it was true! Of course it was true; she knew it was true. Jill was in love with him, yet sending him across to her door. Arianne now began to get a little feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, too. It began to sink in that whatever was going on, it wasn't over peanuts. If Jill would lie, betray their friendship and send her beloved across the alley... well, whatever was going on, it probably didn't concern a picnic in front of the fireplace on Sunday!
Arianne wished she knew what Leo was doing down at the old fort; she wished he would come home early and hold her tightly in his arms. She hoped he, too, wouldn't betray her trust, with that file or anything else. Her fear grew. So many unknowns confronted her!
Pelts of rain against her windows acted upon her mind like water torture, adding tiny bits of terror, accumulating steadily…
Arianne got a firm grip on herself. She concentrated upon the various elements of her mystery, in hopes of unearthing more clues. Jill had said Larry was up to no good. She'd told him about the ESP, and he had come calling, pretending romantic interest when all he wanted were those passwords. And she had given him one correct password to the first ring, the word "bobsled." Egad! What had she done without knowing? What could that first ring possibly be?
A boxing ring? A bullring? A... an appellation for the racetrack? If it was the racetrack—and it wouldn't surprise her—she could understand Larry's consternation over "retarded," for she couldn't see anyone wanting to dub their hopefully winning horse a retarded anything! She laughed to herself, remembering his doubtful expression.
But somehow a bet on the track didn't seem a good enough reason to support all the resulting shenanigans. Certainly oodles of money riding on a winner would make a difference, though, especially if a loan shark, or some similar weighty reason, was riding along with the horse. And he had expensive tastes, Jill had said. But hadn't Jill also said he had a new scheme. Placing a bet hardly comprised a scheme did it? Perhaps involving her ESP with a bet could be termed a "scheme."
Well, then, where did Leo fit in? Somehow she didn't believe in two mysteries happening at once, not in quiet, pretty Port Townsend. He and the officer weren't a team; she sensed at least that much. No, offhand, she would say they were arch enemies. She remembered Leo's green glitter of victory, and Larry's baleful look, too. But could the two men be after the same thing?
Arianne put the lid down on the creamy Boston-style clam chowder and wandered over to where Rae was playing, rather untunefully, with the pots and pans and all their various lids. Suddenly she gathered her baby boy in her arms and held him close. To his great annoyance, for he was busy. But she held him a second more, finding comfort in his vigorous warmth. At his squawl of protest she released him to his clanking and crashing.
Restless, she inspected all the windows to be sure they were secure, peering out at the windy wet darkness beyond. Already the cold fingers of another storm were reaching down her chimney to splatter on the glowing coals, sending wisps of smoke into the room. She shivered, heaping more wood on the fire for a cheerier flame. Thank heavens there was no shortage of firewood in these parts, and thank God for Orly, who always made sure she was well supplied.
Orly... should she call Orly for comfort and advice? But somehow she didn't want to involve another innocent body in the nefarious proceedings. One—herself—was enough. At least Orly was close at hand should she need help. Her mother, of course, was in Palm Springs, but a phone call would bring Mikey running. And there was always the police....
The winter wind sweeping in from the wide-open ocean battered at the old house, whistled in the eaves and howled around the cornices. The seaward windows rattled; her fire sputtered, and Arianne yearned for the refuge of Leo's strong arms.
To gainfully occupy herself, Arianne decided to gather all the odds and ends of her mystery into one long list. There was an old historical navy fort suddenly active; there was Leo, who spent all his time there, there was Larry, a naval lieutenant. Three possibly unrelated facts with one common denominator—the navy.
Larry was up to something no good, while Leo worked for somebody called MicroCon, Inc., Investigations Branch. Could he be investigating Larry? Could that be why Larry hadn't dared to challenge him? Was that why Leo had talked so strangely about Achilles heels and behavior befitting the trust of one's country?
Arianne thought she might have hit on something important with this line of argument. Things did seem to fit. Larry was, after all, an officer; she supposed he could be trusted with fairly important details of defense. And betraying a country was considered a moral offense, and Leo had hinted at moral behavior. Then, too, what Larry was doing to Jill could hardly be called moral, either. If the navy was watching him, as Leo had casually mentioned could be the case, they would have plenty of reason to raise their eyebrows. They had already caught him out once.
Her own unfortunate involvement must be because of her ESP or her proximity to the old fort or both those reasons. Jill's house was the nearest B and B establishment to the old fort, while Arianne's was right above it, with what amounted to a bird's-eye view. Small wonder Leo would grasp at a chance to stay with her instead of Jill. And why would he not encourage Larry to visit, if it was Larry he was investigating? Had Leo's growing attachment to his landlady interfered? Maybe that was why he hadn't wanted to make love to her. It made his job so much more difficult. How could he encourage the traitor to kiss the bait, when he was falling in love with the bait? Hm. It was amazing what a little figuring could do—
Or else, perhaps Leo was doing some sort of investigation for the navy down at that old fort, and Larry was traitorously spying on him. That version would fit all the salient facts just as well as her first supposition. Leo was investigating those mysterious rings, and Larry was trying to break into them with passwords she was supplying.
Arianne moaned. Perhaps that was why Leo was investigating her, as well. Perhaps he and whoever hired him suspected her of some duplicity with Lieutenant Larry Barnes. This would explain that ESP dossier upstairs! And this would be another reason for Leo not to get emotionally involved with her.
Did Jill know what Larry's scheme entailed? Even if she did know the gist of it, would she enlighten Arianne? Not bloody likely when she was helping Larry in the first place! Some friend she turned out to be!
Arianne stewed over the jigsaw puzzle that was beginning to take shape in some respects, while in others the bits and pieces were without meaning or order. She needed more information, but where would she find it?
She already knew it was useless to try to dig things out of Leo that he didn't want to divulge. Larry, well, she might trap him into saying something, but that was unlikely, too. He had remained closemouthed about his intentions, telling her no more than was absolutely necessary. Certainly nobody at the fort would help her, and if she snooped around there, she might make the powers that be even more suspicious of her than they were now. Her only option was Jill.
Arianne didn't hesitate. She smelled trouble. It was in the night's darkness, in the rain's drumming, and it had her spooked.
Although it was almost time for Leo to arrive for dinner, she scribbled him a quick note, bundled Rae into his winter coat and draped her yellow rain slicker over them both. Then she ran like blazes over to Jill's house several hundred yards distant, her Wellingtons squelching on the rain-soaked muddy path. She banged on Jill's back door with her fist.
Jill looked as though she might have been expecting someone else. Her face dropped, and she glanced back into her house a
nd then apprehensively at Arianne. Determinedly she managed a wan smile. "Am I on baby-sitting detail again tonight?"
"No, Jill...may I come in?"
She wasn't welcoming, but she stood aside. "If you're going to bug me about going to Orly, Arianne, don't. I'll decide when the time's right."
"I didn't come about Orly." Gratefully Arianne put Rae on his feet, puffing from the run. She was sure her son gained five pounds a day. He was delighted to greet his playmate, Erin, and the children immediately became immersed in a game of pretend. Gauging Jill's expression, Arianne guessed her mood hadn't improved any, but there was a stubborn set to her chin. Perhaps Jill was being paid a tidy sum for her role as accomplice.
Arianne hesitated, to choose her words carefully. Just because Jill had decided that, like the captain of a sinking ship, she would go down with her ex-husband, Arianne was not going to let them drag her along, too. Life was, after all, too precious, and she had her son's welfare to consider. She had to make Jill talk. She had no choice.
Arianne plowed right in with no preliminaries, deciding to rely on shock value. "What's your ex-husband Larry Barnes up to? You'd better tell me, or I'll call the sheriff!"
Jill gaped at her with a sort of uncanny horror, and Arianne knew she figured her insight was the result of her ESP, not plain deductive reasoning with a dash of feminine intuition thrown in.
"Um, ah, er," she babbled.
"Cough it up!" Arianne was relentless. She fastened her eyes on Jill and didn't let go, knowing now that the other woman was afraid of her witchery. So there were times, after all, when her ESP came in handy! Not breaking her stare, she backed slowly toward Jill's phone. She didn't know how it happened—maybe it was telepathy between her and Rae—but as if on cue, he started shrieking like a police siren, a perfect imitation, and Erin gleefully joined in.
The unexpectedness of it shattered Jill's resolve. She crumpled into a chair and dissolved into tears. "Please don't call the cops, please don't call the cops—" she sobbed, in between the cacophony of the boys. "Please, please, please..."
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